


Lawn Clippings

by c0cunt



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, Pastel!Jean, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5313596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/pseuds/c0cunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco becomes best friends with a cute pastel boy whose family spends the summer in his hometown of Jinae, and somehow gets a crush on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Based on this text post <a href="http://c0cunt.tumblr.com/post/134201053340">here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lawn Clippings

   Summer just plain wasn’t Marco’s favorite season. It was too hot, there were too many people at the beach, and all he wanted to do during vacation was curl up into a ball of sweat with the air conditioning blasting.  But alas, he couldn’t just do that; he had a summer job at a little ice cream parlor his mother owned.  He was constantly bugged by tourists who were trying to find their way to the beach while he worked, as though they couldn’t read a goddamn map.  The one thing about summer that he absolutely adored was how it brought Jean Kirschstein to his town of Jinae.

 

   Marco couldn’t help a goofy smile every time he thought about that goober (a smile that his older brother Mick relentlessly teased him about).  They had met the summer between 5th and 6th grade, and had become fast friends somehow.  Even when he thought hard about it, Marco couldn’t remember exactly how it had happened; one day, he was just doing his normal summer wanderings (imposed upon by his father, for the sake of their electric bill), the next he was being followed around by a chubby boy in pastels with a blond undercut.  When Marco had pointed out that this boy was following him and he didn’t even know his name, the boy had looked absolutely thunderstruck as he stuttered out that his name was Jean.  With a pair of grins, they had easily set into a routine of meeting at the Bodt’s ice cream parlor, and went on daily adventures that would only end when the sun finally dipped below the horizon (always mindful of accidentally staining the pastel clothes that Jean insisted on wearing, with Marco eventually bringing along a set of clothes to throw on top of his pastels if they were going to get dirty).  The next summer had gone the same way, until Marco asked if he would mind exchanging phone numbers, Jean absolutely stuttering with delight that they would be friends for more than just their summers.

 

   The hesitant weekly calls soon became nightly rambling chats over the fall, winter, and spring.  Marco couldn’t help the excitement he felt when he glanced at the caller ID and saw the Kirschstein number pop up every night.  Marco held absolutely nothing back when they spoke; from how annoyed he was with his cousin Ymir about some silly argument, to how terrified he was of applying to colleges as they got older.  Marco assumed that Jean never held back either, as he heard quite a bit about his crushes on Mikasa and then Armin and then Eren, as well as more worrisome things.  Things like how Jean would casually mention how his father called him all sorts of names a father shouldn’t call their child, or how he was proud of getting through one particular day at school without a single slur or punch thrown in his direction.  It broke his heart, but there wasn’t anything he could do aside from show his own brand of long distance support.

 

* * *

 

   By the summer that Marco turned 18, he and Jean were as close as any pair could be.  Soon enough though, he would be applying to colleges and worrying about what degree he would be working on...But that thought was far from his mind as he hid in the storage room of Bodt’s ice cream parlor, hiding from Jean.  Why?  Well, Marco was concerned that since he had now developed a big gay crush on his best friend from Trost, that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with him as they had used to.  So, for the entire summer, Marco hid and took even more shifts that his mother offered, effectively cutting himself off from Jean.  There were only two days left until Jean would be going back to Trost, and Marco still had not been able to face him, when all of his thoughts kept circling back to just how soft Jean’s lips looked when he swiped glittery lipgloss on, or just how adorable Jean looked even as he scowled with his bangs held to the side by butterfly clips (the exact same ones that Marco had mailed to him for his birthday mere months ago).  Which is how Mick found him, sitting on the floor behind a box of cups, staring at his cell phone that was buzzing at random intervals with texts from an increasingly worried Jean.

 

   “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”  Mick laughed, ditching his apron as he joined Marco on the floor.  Marco just grunted, gently banging his head against the wall he was leaning against.  “Watsamatta kiddo, girl problems?”  Mick probed with another laugh, nudging him slightly.  Both of them knew Marco was definitely not straight, and that Mick was definitely joking, but it was close enough in Marco’s mind.  He whined instead of answering, letting his head thunk a bit harder into the wall, before stopping to glare at the ceiling.

 

   “Am I just being an idiot Mick?  How the fuck did I end up with a crush on my best friend?”  He groaned, letting his head drop into his hands.  Mick tutted sympathetically, even as he rolled his eyes at his little brother’s dramatics.

   “Crush or no crush, that boy’s been coming around here at all hours to try and speak to you, so obviously he at least gives half a shit about you,” Mick started, cleaning underneath his fingernails.  “But if you want my advice, I suggest being his friend again, or it won’t matter ‘cause he’s fuckin’ pissed that you keep avoiding him.”  Another wordless whine, which made Mick chuckle a bit, before he stood back up and patted Marco’s shoulder, heading back to work and letting Marco ruminate on just how badly he’d fucked up.  When Marco finally went back out and asked his mother if it’d be alright if he went home early, his request was granted with a small smile and a thumbs up from Mick over her shoulder.  Maybe Marco would be able to get the guts to talk to Jean about what was going on with him...

 

   Three hours and one cat nap later, and all Marco had accomplished was feeling even more dread at the thought of explaining to Jean exactly why he’d been avoiding him.  Even though he knew Jean was bi, that meant literally fuck-all as far as wanting to date someone was concerned.  Like sure, Jean had said Marco was a “fucking adorable ball of sunshine, jesus christ freckles how are you real” on more than one occasion, that still didn’t translate into potentially reciprocating a crush...So Marco was going to lose his best friend, all because he couldn’t fucking talk about his goddamn crush on him.  God, he was pathetic, angry tears slipping out as he contemplated just how terrible of a person he must be to just let it happen.

 

   “HEY ASSHOLE!”  Marco jumped slightly at the shout, lifting his head from where he’d rested it on the window sill.  Sniffling slightly as he rubbed his eyes, he tried to focus on what was right outside his window.  Standing outside with a manic grin and a giant black bag almost tipping him over, was none other than Jean Kirschstein, surrounded by pile upon pile of...Grass clippings?  Blinking owlishly, Marco slid the window open, as Jean started screaming again.

 

   “YEAH, YOU BODT!  I FUCKING LOVE YOU, YOU GAY PIECE OF SHIT!”  He hollered, obviously giving less than a single shit about the neighbors, as he pulled even more grass clippings from the bag on his shoulder and tossed them at Marco’s open window.  None of them even came close to the open window, but most of it floated back into Jean, sticking to his clothes and hair.  Marco couldn’t help laughing at the absolutely ridiculous scene in front of him, made even more funny to him as Jean started dancing around in an attempt to get grass out of his shirt.  Grinning, Jean waved up at him, completely ignoring the grass stuck in his hair.

 

   “What the heck are you doing?”  Marco croaked, hanging himself out the window just a bit more.  He looked around suspiciously, wondering if maybe Jean had been put up to this, and glared as he saw Mick’s car parked across the street.  Before Jean could answer, Marco quickly snapped “Mick didn't put you up to this, did he?”  Pink spread across Jean’s face, matching his shirt color as he ducked his head.  Anger bubbled in Marco’s chest, and he glared at Mick’s car just as he slid out, a large bunch of flowers in hand.

 

   “Jesus christ kid, why couldn’t you have just given him these instead?”  Mick whined, shoving the flowers into Jean’s hand as he glared at all the grass on their front porch.  Jean mumbled something that could vaguely have been ‘read it online’ or something, as his face burned even more.  Jean looked up at Marco, who was still hanging mostly out the window, smiling slightly.

   “Do you think we could maybe talk?”  He asked hesitantly, lighting up with happiness as Marco nodded and hurried down, grabbing a broom on his way out.

 

* * *

 

   “So wait, lemme get this straight,” Marco said slowly, his sweeping coming to a halt as he stared at Jean, who was crouching by the open bag for the grass to be swept into.  “You’ve been conspiring all summer with Mick to get me to talk to you, all so that you could tell me that you have a crush on me?”  It was almost laughable, and felt too good to be true, even as Jean nodded and grumbled ‘you made it a lot harder with your disappearing act’.  It was just too much, and soon enough Marco was doubled over with laughter, even as Jean glared at him to hide his own smile.

 

   “At least one of us has balls enough to say something,” Marco choked out, leaning almost all his weight onto the poor broom.  Eyes wide, Jean looked up in surprise, almost the same expression as all those years ago when Marco had asked for his name.  Just as Marco was about to abandon the sweeping to finally kiss those pink, glittery lips, Mick loudly called “save it for another time, mom’s gonna be so pissed if she sees all this shit on the porch when she gets home!”

 

   Blushing slightly, Marco swept with more vigor, laughing slightly as Jean was smacked in the face with some stray grass.  Jean pouted and threw a small handful at Marco, which only led to retaliation, and then led to all-out war.  By the time Mrs Bodt made it home, both boys were on the floor, covered with grass, both of their lips sticky and pink, as Mick yelled at them for not sweeping up.  It had to be the best ending to any summer Marco had ever experienced, and all he could hope for was that there would be even better summers to come.

 


End file.
